Interfering

Jason followed Katie numbly to the bedroom, something in the back of his mind wanting to argue about using the bed, but he didn't have the energy, and he knew Katie would win anyway. Easing down on the mattress, he lay on his side, letting his head sink into the soft pillow. He really needed to get out of his sweaty clothes, but he wasn't sure he had the strength even for that. Though his eyes fell shut, his hand found Katie's, not wanting her to leave. 

I couldn't survive without you, ya know. 

Amidst his exhaustion and mixed emotions, he tried to give Katie his love. She was his hero, and he couldn't even imagine what he would do if anything ever happened to her. 

It was Jed who came down with a glass of orange juice and crackers, approaching the bedroom cautiously. The scene wasn't as bad as earlier, but Jason looked like death warmed over, and Katie looked exhausted. What on earth was going on here? At least he didn't feel that wall of terror anymore. He came in slowly and set the food down on the bedside table. "Sarah and I are upstairs if you need anything," he mentioned quietly. He wasn't going to ask. Whatever this was, he knew it had to do with why they were on the run. Were they sick? Was it contagious? Had they come into contact with something classified that they were now being hunted for? His mind ran wild with theories that were not voiced. He wanted to say more, but there really was very little to say. 

Jason cracked an eye open, watching Jed leave, then slowly shifted his gaze to Katie. He hadn't wanted to tell anybody anything. It was dangerous for them, and it was dangerous for anybody who knew. Not to mention, how would Jed and Sarah react to the truth? All Jason could do was trust in Rosetta's judgment that these people could be trusted. 

Trying to pull himself up a little, he reached shakily for the orange juice. He didn't feel like eating or drinking anything at all, but he knew he was close to passing out and then he'd be in even bigger trouble. "I feel like I got run over by a bus." He managed to take several swallows and laid back again, waiting for the sugar to kick in. It had been a long time since he'd felt this bad after an episode.

Unable to do anything but just be still, he simply rested for a while, attempting nothing but finishing the juice. Eventually he did start to feel a little better and also managed to eat a couple crackers in spite of his stomach still being off kilter. Finally able to sit up at least, he sighed. "I need to take a shower." If he could get his muscles to work, that is. "And we need to go talk to Jed and Sarah before they freak."


"A whole week? But..." Jeff looked between Angel and Rosetta, knowing good and well there was no way he'd win this one. Sitting up in bed, he leaned back against the wall, his low shoulders proving he wasn't happy. He really didn't want to have to go be monitored 24/7 though, so he finally nodded. "Okay." He was a little surprised she didn't want to tweak his heart medication, but he was glad. He'd rather try to handle it with rest, even if it did bum him out. 

Sighing, he reached over for the tray of food Rosetta had brought in a little earlier, and pointed at it as he looked at Angel. "Eating. Drinking. So at least you can go tonight without yelling at me." 


Adison's soft words were enough to calm the most violent of beasts. Kirk let her hold his hand, and didn't mind when she brushed his hair aside. Actually, he liked it when she did that. He liked her touch on his face. Why did something so simple have to seem so complicated? What she said made his heart beat a little faster. Half of him wanted to just turn right there and then and kiss her and hold her. The other half of him wanted to stay miserable because he knew solving this was not as easy as she made it sound. 

"If I join the Elite, then the FBI loses their link, and they'll just send in someone else - probably worse than me if you can even imagine that." He took another sip of coffee before grimacing and pouring it down the sink. It had been sitting there for too long and tasted overcooked. "And as it sits... same team or not... it's a fact that the FBI has different goals than the Elite... which really means no real team at all. Just players pulling in different directions." 

He shook his head and ran a hand over his face. Looking down at her, his smile was hidden behind a weary look. "Why does it feel like work is interfering with us?"